


Somebody Save Me (From my Heart)

by pastelfeathers



Series: pastel's dreamnoblade works [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelfeathers/pseuds/pastelfeathers
Summary: “So,” Sapnap says cheerfully, “how’s the honeymoon going for you?”Dream chokes, then casts a furtive look at where Techno is just outside of the room, within earshot of their conversation. “What?” he hisses, cheeks reddening, “you, what do you mean? He’s just doing me a solid, there’s no-”“Wow,” Sapnap interrupts, eyebrows raising, “are you blushing?”“I think he is,” George says thoughtfully, smirking and leaning in to peer at Dream. “Why are you blushing?”“I’m not,” Dream denies, wishing he had his mask on. “You’re both ridiculous.”Soulmate AU
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: pastel's dreamnoblade works [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185617
Comments: 32
Kudos: 614





	Somebody Save Me (From my Heart)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moo_nyy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moo_nyy/gifts).



> As always, this started off as a fun drabble and ended up getting away from me. :c
> 
> Gifting this to the lovely moony who prompted: soulmate AU where it is your soulmate's dying words that are engraved on your body (and as I am incapable of writing the angsty version of this, please have a half-baked universe where you have enough lives to survive a death).
> 
> I saw this mentioned on a few other stories so pointing out quickly that this is a work of fiction (not at all intended to reflect the actual creators themselves) so please treat the creators with respect and do not share this with them.

Dream jokes around with George a lot, but that’s all it is, jokes.

Still, he’s happy enough to indulge his many fans and allow them to cast their idealistic romantic aspirations onto the two of them. If only because most fans are quite respectful, and he’s not one to deny them what they wish when it doesn’t bother anyone.

This, though, this is taking it too far.

“It’s just one life,” the masked person says, breathing heavily, “and we’ll know for sure.”

Dream backs away slowly, hands up in an attempt to calm the other down. “Let’s reconsider,” he tries, quickly tugging his mask up so he can flash a forced smile at the person, “sometimes it’s nice to leave a bit to chance you know?”

The person is silent for a long tense minute.

“No, I don’t know, but I guess it doesn’t matter,” the masked person says pleasantly, and makes a come hither gesture, “we’ll find out soon enough.”

Dream chokes when something cold and sharp slashes across his throat.

At least they made it quick, Dream acknowledges muzzily as he crumples to the ground.

His last thought before everything fades to black is-

_I wonder who it is._

\---

“Technoblade, Technoblade” Tommy is shouting, arms flailing like some kind of badly blown up ballon toy, “fuck, Techno, holy crap, did you hear?”

“No Tommy, I haven’t heard and please don’t hit me in the face,” Techno admonishes placidly, taking a step back when Tommy surges closer in excitement, “what? Stop it, use your words.”

“Dream’s words!”

Techno frowns, immediately understanding what Tommy’s getting at and unable to help the unbidden pang of worry that he experiences. “He died?” Techno asks in lieu of the more obvious question.

Tommy gapes at him.

“What, don’t you want to know what his words were?”

Techno presses his lips tightly together.

He does.

He very much does.

Because, somewhere between the tournament, the championships, and the persistent banter with Dream, he’s grown to like the other man.

Like _like_.

But well.

Techno isn’t an idiot.

He’s seen what he’s up against and, he’s honest enough about his own strengths and shortcomings to admit that he’s no handsome brunet with a charming foreign accent.

“I assume it’ll be all over the news,” Techno points out, “I’m sure even now, someone, somewhere, is shouting what his words are in the town square.”

Tommy rolls his eyes.

“You’re no fun, seriously, your longtime rival, most popular speedrunner in the whole kingdom has his words exposed and you don’t want to know?”

“Just tell me,” Techno sighs, “you obviously want to.”

“No,” Tommy refuses, shaking his head in mock sadness, “I don’t think you deserve to hear it now. I’m going to go find Wilbur.” He sniffs and, like the petty child that he is, rushes out again. He leaves Techno’s house much in the same way he came, a tornado of sound and movement, and like a tornado, Techno is left reeling in the aftermath.

Techno stares at the open door and wince when it bangs against the wall from Tommy throwing it open too hard.

He hesitates.

He is...curious.

Which is how, after a short ride to the closest town, he slows his horse down enough to be able to look like he’s just casually riding through the cobblestone street. He empathetically does not dismount from Carl in order to better hear what the gathered crowds are saying. 

That would be pathetic and sad and-

“-nice to leave a bit to chance you know?”

Techno freezes.

“Really?” another villager says, eyes wide, “those are the words?”

The original speaker nods vigorously, carefully picking out another apple to add to her wicker basket. “Can’t believe it, wonder who has the words?”

Techno does not run.

He does, however, speedily remount Carl.

Carl runs instead.

See.

Technicalities.

Techno resists the urge to check all the way home, but once he’s back, he doesn’t even bother to tie Carl up before he’s barreling up the stairs. He slams the front door open, then hurriedly closes it with his back.  
He is not panicking.

Not at all.

He pops open the top few buttons of his shirt with unsteady hands, forcibly tugging the shirt out once there’s sufficient room to do so.

_Let’s reconsider, sometimes it’s nice to leave a bit to chance you know?_

He stares at the loopy text across his chest and tries to remember what it means to breathe.

\---

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

Dream groans and tries to bury himself deeper into his pillows, on the off chance he can escape from the horrid reality he’s rewoken in.

Hell.

If it gets him out of the living nightmare he’s stuck in, he’s willing to trade away another life, consequences be damned.

He feels George’s tentative touch on his shoulder.

“M’elpe.”

“What?” George sounds confused.

Dream lifts up his head to glare blearily at his friend. He hasn’t been able to sleep very well since his ‘death’. Unsurprisingly, his rest is plagued by night terrors and more often than not, leaves him in a cold sweat. The knowledge that the perpetrators have been captured and are awaiting trial brings little solace when, every time he closes his eyes, he feels the phantom sensation of a knife to his throat.

“I said help me,” he repeats, not into his pillows this time.

George makes a soothing sound, settling down on the edge of the bed. “I wish I could.”

“Enough to get a fake tattoo of the words?” Dream prods, more than a little desperate, he waggles his eyebrows cajolingly, “let’s make dreamnotfound a reality?”

George snickers and shoves him, but the action is affectionate.

“What am I going to do?” Dream asks plaintively in the ensuing silence.

He’s given up on his plans to suffocate himself for a better future and has opted to flop carelessly onto his back.

“Has anyone-”

“So many,” Dream interrupts in a horrified whisper. He’s never doubted his fans before and events of recent days have provided ample evidence to reassure him that he will never need to concern himself about his popularity being fleeting. 

That is to say, he gets about two confessions of being soulmates a day and it’s starting to eat away what remains of his sense of sanity.

What happened to true love?!

Why pretend to be soulmates with someone who isn’t actually your soulmate?

Sue him for being a romantic but Dream genuinely wants to meet the person the three fates have deemed perfect for him.

“Some of them don’t even try to hide their real words?” Dream confesses, unable to help the tinge of aghast disbelief that colours the admission, “like, this one came up to me this morning and showed me her arm, even though she tattooed my words below her real words.”

“They’re still getting through the guards?”

Dream flinches at the reminder and raises a hand to rub tiredly at his face. 

“Yeah,” he admits quietly, “I don’t know what to do. I’m about to fall over, at this rate, well, I don’t know.”

He doesn’t move when he feels George lay down on his bed beside him, but he does smile slightly at the ceiling when he feels his friend bump their shoulders together.

“Maybe you need a better bodyguard.”

Dream snorts, then wiggles in annoyance when George pokes him in the side.

“Yeah,” he says drily, “as if someone’s going to be able to beat the four-”

He cuts himself off when the insinuation of George’s words sink in.

Dream knows someone who is better than all of the bodyguards and himself combined.

“Think you’re getting where I’m going with this.”

Dream shifts so he’s sitting up, haphazardly hugging a pillow to his chest as hope fills him.

“You think he’ll want to?” He can’t help but ask, conscious that Techno and he haven’t necessarily always been on the best of terms and it’s only been in recent months that their relationship has mellowed into one of companionable rivalry.

George shoots him an indecipherable look before giving him a gentle, but admittedly worried, smile. “Can’t hurt to ask.”

Dream hugs his pillow a bit tighter.

No, it can’t hurt.

\---

Techno is an adult. 

It’s why, when he opens his door to see an unmasked and exhausted looking Dream, he doesn’t immediately shut it in the other man’s face.

He says ‘hello’ and ‘not a good time’ first, then tries to shut the door.

Except Dream is already pushing his way in, desperately checking over his shoulder as he does so. Techno is about to push him out regardless, but then he catches sight of the prominent dark circles under Dream’s eyes, and thinks better of it.

Techno is a simp for Dream.

Whatever, sue him, he’s allowed to be a simp, being his soulmate and all.

“Alright fine, come in,” he grouses, trying to steady his already racing heart at his own inadvertent reminder of their situation.

Once Dream is inside, there is an awkward silence.

“Have you heard the news?”

Techno peers uncertainly at Dream. The other man sounded calm enough but the tense line of his mouth and the tightly clenched fists betray his true feelings on the matter.

“Yeah,” he says lightly, “you’re kind of a big shot, you know. Even a reclusive hermit like me has heard.”

Dream cracks a wan smile. “You’re such an idiot,” he mutters, “who told you to move out to the middle of the frozen tundra anyway?”

“I wanted a pet polar bear,” Techno responds immediately, “Steve is the best boy, and therefore deserves only the best. I will not recognize any other opinion on the matter.”

His heart resolutely does not flutter when Dream bursts into wheezing cackles.

“You’re so weird dude.”

“Eh, it’s a talent.”

Techno uses the lull in their conversation to observe Dream, wondering if the knowledge that he is the man's soulmate will change his perceptions in any way.

Dream notices his searching look, and shoots him a chagrined look in reply, raising a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Don’t say it,” he warns, “I know okay? I look like shit.”

Which is so far from what Techno had been about to say that he automatically balks. “Heh!?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t start okay,” Dream mutters, then lapses into another silence, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie as he does so.

Techno, confused, watches him wordlessly for another moment. 

“Did you ah, did you need something?” He tries again, then jokes, “promise I got rid of my raccoon problem.”

Dream snickers, “but I see you kept the ‘visible’ Enderman.”

“I have excellent tastes,” Techno sniffs in mock offense.

Another stifling silence.

“Look,” Techno says, “I need to look for Carl.”

“Can you be my bodyguard?” says Dream at the same time.

There is another pause.

“Carl?” Dream asks, something terse coming over his recently more relaxed demeanor.

Techno winces. “My horse,” he admits morosely, “I was ah, in er, a bit of a bind, and may have forgotten to tether him.”

“Oh.” Dream, inexplicably, seems to relax at this.

Silence.

Techno has no idea why the world thinks they should be soulmates when there’s so many awkward pauses between the two of them.

Though maybe that’s on him.

He’s acutely aware of the words on his chest, and in Dream’s presence, they feel almost as if they’re on fire.

A brand on his skin stating whom it is that his future is intertwined with.

“So,” Techno manages after a few more minutes of painful quietness, “bodyguard?”

Dream slumps, his body sagging under an invisible weight. “I just, I really need your help.” He puts the final nail in the coffin when he throws Techno a pleading look, all wide eyes and parted pink lips, “please.”

Which.

How could Techno say no to that?

\---

Living with Techno is unexpectedly easy.

Dream is not sure which one of them is more surprised by this realization.

He had anticipated that it would be hard to adjust into the rhythm of living with another person, but somehow, despite all of their history, they settle into a fairly peaceful routine.

Dream learns that Techno wakes and sleeps with the sun, meaning the other man is up at stupid hours of the morning and goes to bed much too early. He learns that Techno spends a lot of his downtime reading, his favourite books being memoirs from battle-hardened generals that expound on the tactics of war to excruciatingly boring detail. He is drafted into caring for Techno’s many animals and is not sure why his cheeks occasionally redden when Techno coos in baby talk at his pets, praising them for simple accomplishments.

Dream’s starting to worry he won’t ever be able to hear the words ‘good boy’ said in Techno’s low rasp without automatically blushing ever again.

It’s all a bit worrying.

But all in all, it’s so exceedingly domestic that Dream allows his guard to slowly drop when the weeks go by and the only visitors that ever stop by are mutual acquaintances.

No unwanted declarations of love.

No well meaning but obsessive fans trying to draw him into conversation.

It’s so idyllic that Dream lets himself forget why he’s here.

Which is on him.

“We know he’s here,” the guard says, sounding annoyed, “ahem, by the demands of King Schlatt, you must hand him over.”

Techno looks unbothered, he’s slowly putting on his armour and seems completely at ease with the fact that the other guards are searching through his house.

Dream, made invisible by a potion and desperately clinging to a wooden support beam, tries not to feel bad about dragging his once rival into this mess. But he’s well aware of the other man’s feelings on the idea of a monarchy, much less a self appointed king so he’s hoping that perhaps Techno might enjoy the chance to inflict some damage on Schlatt’s reputation as the ruler of all the nine lands.

Dream is fairly certain only the King is arrogant enough to think he rules the frozen tundra to the North.

Most know better, the frozen wasteland is the Blood God’s domain and few dare to venture into the territory, hence, Dream’s respite from his fans.

“Come on,” another guard whines, “you guys aren’t even tight, just do us a favour and hand him over.”

Dream experiences a temporary moment of panic, as doubt overtakes his rational thoughts.

He’s not sure why Schlatt wants him, but the King’s summon has never turned out well for him in the past.

Techno doesn’t have to do this.

He’s outnumbered.

He can absolutely just-

Dream digs his fingers deeper into the wood when Techno launches into action.

With his white battle mask on, Techno is as deadly as he always is but it becomes readily apparent that the man is bored. Dream can see it in his lazy swings, the half hearted parries, and the nonchalant way he dispatches some of the closer guards. It’s all over in a matter of minutes and the remaining guards outside, wisely turn tail and run instead of piling in.

Dream sympathizes.

There’s something unnerving about seeing a man in a bloodied pig mask turn slowly to stare at you while wiping down an equally bloodied sword.

He’s about to jump off and maybe try and duck upstairs so he can help keep an eye out on the retreating troops when there is the sound of a small poof.

“Really?” Techno is saying, sounding more annoyed than worried, “you’re really going to insist on being a clown?”

Which is all Dream hears before he’s falling, his hands having gone numb when he hears his words, the ones inked between his shoulder blades being spoken by the absolute last person he expects. He hits the wooden floor with an audible thump.

It goes downhill from there.

Techno, in a half turn towards where Dream has fallen and thus distracted, barely fends off the first sword strike from the group of newcomers, and a leg sweep quickly take his footing out from beneath him.

Before Dream could move, another sword is slashing down and-

The newcomers speed out the house with ender pearls, leaving Dream to watch in horror as his soulmate, his brain stutters at the thought, slowly bleeds out.

Dream shakily crawls over to Techno, removing his mask unsteadily until he’s able to see Techno’s pale face, made paler by the continued blood loss.

Dream thinks about rummaging the room for a potion until he catches sight of the wound.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles out numbly, eyes fixated on the large gash on Techno’s throat, “I, I don’t think, that’s too, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

He isn’t sure what to do when, unable to speak beyond some gurgling sounds, Techno simply raises and rests a large, warm hand on Dream’s cheek.

Then his eyes are closing.

His body flickers in and out of existence for a few second before he’s gone.

Dream sits in the aftermath of the battle, and allows the events sink into his frazzled brain.

Techno is his soulmate.

The words he uttered right before dying proves that, but-

Is Dream Techno’s soulmate?

Techno admitted to knowing what Dream’s final words were, but they’re been living together for weeks now and the other man has never brought it up once.

Dream stares at the blood on his hand.

Is it possible Techno is his soulmate but he’s not Techno’s?

It’s not unheard of, but it’s such a rare phenomenon that the three fates couldn’t be so cruel as to subject Dream to be one of the few individuals who suffered from such a pain for the course of his two remaining lives.

Could they?

\---

Techno detests dying.

He’s never done it before and he never wants to do it again.

He wakes up in his bed and immediately reaches out to pat at his neck, allowing a tired sigh to escape when his hands meet smooth, unstabbed, skin. He spends a few more minutes huddled in his blanket in blessed silence before he abruptly recalls who it is that he’s living with and what dying in front of Dream meant.

Techno is not too proud to say that he more or less falls out of bed in his hurry to leave his room, and the ensuing noise of him struggling to untangle from his blanket is so loud that he soon hears a knock at the door. Thankfully, Dream is respectful enough to wait so Techno is spared the indignity of being found as a flailing mess.

Instead, he quickly throws the blanket back on the bed and spends a quick second to pat himself down and to try and tame his messy hair back to its usual silky smooth state.

He can do this.

He’ll apologize for not telling Dream, then explain to the kingdom’s favourite speedrunner that he’s a coward and he should have known better than to hide their soulmate status.

“Hullo,” he croaks out, cracking the door open enough to be able to peer out.

Dream looks tired, but the smile on his face is genuine.

Despite his internal panic, Techno instinctively smiles back.

“How are you feeling?”

Techno takes a second to reassess the situation, wrongfooted by the question as it isn’t the one he had been expecting, but forces himself to nod. “What can I say, I'm just a hardworking, honest man, stabbing people for coins and sometimes, that creates enemies.”

Dream smile dips. “No, I, we both know that was because of me,” he looks discomfited by the admittance, “I- I can leave.”

Techno stares at Dream in silence.

That was unexpected.

He only startles into action when Dream’s face falls and the other man takes a step back, making as if to leave. Only then does Techno open the door wide enough to step through and catch a hold of Dream’s arm. “Wait, no, you don’t have to. I-” Techno pauses, unable to explain that he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop and isn’t sure how to cope with the current situation, “-I’m just tired.”

If anything, that seem to make Dream deflate even more. “Yeah, I ah, I heard you, bad dreams?”

Techno is tempted to say yes. Their current conversation does seem like a bad dream, because there’s now a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that wonders if maybe the confrontation he’d been expecting isn’t coming because Techno’s words meant nothing to Dream.

Which is a whole level of hurt that Techno had not been ready to address.

“Ah, yep, yeah, that’s it,” he manages to get out weakly, letting go of his hold on Dream’s arm and stepping back, “I, ah, I think I might need some alone time.”

“Like, alone alone?”

“No,” Techno refutes so loudly that it causes Dream to jump and he quickly raises a hand to cover his face in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

What a simp, he reprimands himself, what is wrong with you.

Once he feels a bit calmer, Techno tries to smile at Dream, but it might come off as more of a grimace judging by the other’s concerned frown. “No, it’s, you’re fine bruh, I just, bad dreams. You know?”

“Do I ever, ha,” Dream’s laugh is nothing like his usual happy wheezing, it’s resigned and bitter, “I really do. Sometimes I still think of the, well, you know.”

Techno nods numbly.

“Well, I mean, if you want, I, um, I’m here.” Dream mumbles, avoiding Techno’s eyes, “in case you want to talk.”

“Yeah,” Techno responds faintly, “great.”

He does not watch Dream leave.

Instead, Techno leans heavily against his now closed door and tries to sort through his reeling thoughts. He starts with what he knows.

Dream is his soulmate. It is absolutely Dream’s last words inked onto Techno’s chest, showing the world how much of a simp he is for the other man.

Techno just died in front of Dream. Dream was so close, there was no chance that Dream didn’t hear his last words.

Dream did not bring it up.

Techno’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

Why would Dream not bring it up?

Unless, Techno’s words aren’t the words that Dream carries on his body?

Which means.

Techno’s mind skitters away from the conclusion like a terrified deer but he forces it to confront the logical realization.

Dream is Techno’s soulmate but Techno is not Dream’s.

\---

“So,” Sapnap says cheerfully, “how’s the honeymoon going for you?”

Dream chokes, then casts a furtive look at where Techno is just outside of the room, within earshot of their conversation. “What?” he hisses, cheeks reddening, “you, what do you mean? He’s just doing me a solid, there’s no-”

“Wow,” Sapnap interrupts, a grin spreading across his face, “are you blushing?”

“I think he is,” George says thoughtfully, smirking and leaning in to peer more closely at Dream. “Why are you blushing?”

“I’m not,” Dream denies reflexively, wishing he had his mask on. “You’re both ridiculous.”

Sapnap and George exchange glances.

“Don’t buy it,” George says.

Sapnap nods in agreement. “Spill, what happened?”

Dream groans when they both stare expectantly at him.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, wishing he hadn’t invited them over. He has no idea why he thought maybe their presence would alleviate the strange atmosphere that’s fallen over Techno and he over the past few days. 

He is, therefore, slightly relieved when Techno chooses that moment to come into the small kitchen.

“Hellooo,” Techno greets, drawing out the last syllable in that endearing way he does, “Sapnap.” There is a slight pause, “George.”

George’s eyebrows go up.

“What’s up?” Sapnap says easily, “you want to join us?”

Dream isn’t sure what expression is on his face when Techno turns to look at him, but whatever it is causes Techno to aim a rather dimmed smile in Sapnap’s direction. “Nah, think I’m good, you guys have fun. Just going to grab some carrots, might take Carl out.”

“Carl?”

“His horse,” Dream answers.

There is a beat of awkward silence before Techno does as he said, bustling over to one of his many chests and grabbing a handful of carrots before nodding a polite, and rather distant, goodbye.

To their credit, Sapnap and George both wait until they hear the click of the front door closing before they round on him.

“Seriously?” George says, a laugh in his voice.

Sapnap elbows George playfully, “what did you do? That was some look, you better watch out next championship.”

Dream makes a face at the two of them.

George shoves Sapnap lightly, rollings his eyes. “I haven’t been over in two weeks, don’t be a dick.”

“So you haven’t made moves on Techno’s man?” Sapnap asks, lifting one eyebrow skeptically.

“I am going to throw you into lava,” George promises sweetly, “you just wait.”

Dream flinches back when both of them turn to face him at the same time.

“What?” he demands when neither speak.

Sapnap starts shaking his head. “You can’t be this dumb,” he says despairingly, “George please, has he always been this stupid?”

“Fuck off,” Dream snaps, “what are you even on about?”

Sapnap buries his head into his hands. “He is stupid.”

“No, he’s ah,” George says, not sounding particularly convincing, “he’s just special.”

“I seriously hate you both.”

They both cackle.

Dream is friends with assholes.

“I mean it, what are you two on about?”

George must take pity on him, because the brunet leans in close again and deliberately holds Dream’s gaze.

“Dream.”

“Yeah?”

“That was the actions of a jealous man.”

“What?”

Sapnap lets out a loud guffaw, tears at the corners of his eyes. “It means that if Techno could, he probably would have thrown dear George out on his ass a few minutes earlier.”

George nods, looking decidedly too pleased about being the apparent target of a man the masses call the ‘Blood God’.

“Don’t,” Dream says, heart suddenly thudding painfully in his chest as hope threatens to overtake him when he manages to sort out what his friends were trying to imply, “it’s not funny, I, stop it.”

The desperation in his voice make the other two pause and exchange a decidedly more concerned look.

“Hey, no,” Sapnap says softly, all traces of humour gone, “really, what happened?”

Which is how Dream finds himself spilling out all the miserable events up to date.

In the ensuing silence, he stares down at the kitchen table and tries not to be mortified at how much of a simp he sounds.

“I can’t,” Sapnap groans out, “you deal with him.”

George makes an affronted noise. “Why me?”

“I already had to explain Techno’s dirty look at you, so now it’s your turn.”

Dream raises his head to frown at both of them, feeling rather betrayed, he just confessed that his soulmate isn’t his and here they were, bickering like idiots.

“I said he was jealous first! Fine, whatever, okay,” George relents after a moment, turning to stare back at Dream. “You own us, mate, I honestly don’t know how you managed to win all the manhunts, I’m seriously doubting your intelligence.”

“Wha-”

“No, listen to him.” Sapnap has the audacity to reach across the table and hold a hand over Dream’s mouth.

George sighs. “Dream, Techno knows your words right?”

Dream nods.

“Can you think of any reason he might not have wanted to say anything to you?” George continues, looking like the whole conversation pained him.

Still silenced, Dream shakes his head.

Sapnap stops covering his mouth long enough to smack him on the side of the head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“What the fuck,” Dream scowls, rubbing at where he was just hit, “why wouldn’t he tell me if he was my soulmate. We’re friends.”

“Now,” George points out, “you weren’t always.”

“Well, we were still friends by the time I moved in, why didn’t he say something?”

Sapnap looks thoughtful. “I mean, Technoblade does not strike me as someone who’s particularly vocal about his feelings,” he points out, then with a roll of his eyes, “also, Dream, you’ve been simping publicly for George for years. I can understand why the man would hesitate.”

“But,” Dream gets out past the rising sense of something hot and tight in his chest, a feeling born of anticipation and clarity, “why didn’t he say anything afterwards?”

“You mean, after he died and said his last words within your hearing?” George clarifies, “after which you made no mentions or indications that his words are on you. You want to know why he didn’t say anything since then.”

Put like that, Dream can see why.

“So,” he starts softly, feeling more vulnerable than he’s been in a long time, “you think there’s a chance?”

The expression his friends shoot him now are identically fond.

“Yes you idiot,” Sapnap says, “like I said, our dear George here should probably watch out next championship because I’m pretty sure your pink-haired prince charming is going to be out for his blood.”

“So unfair,” George concurs with a reluctant grin, letting out a small laugh, “I didn’t even do anything.”

But Dream isn’t listening anymore.

He stands up abruptly, then stops, and stares down at the expectant faces of his friends.

“What if,” he says past the worried lump in his throat, “what if you’re wrong.”

There is a slight pause.

“Well, there is that chance,” Sapnap allows, then pins him with a surprisingly hard look, “but even if that was the case, do you not want to try?”

Dream holds the stare for a minute longer before he’s rushing out the door, ignoring the hooting cackles from his friends.

He does.

He’s terrified but he wants to try.

Somewhere over the course of their cohabitation, he’s grown to like Techno, more than he should really and it had nothing to do with Techno being his soulmate (not when he didn’t even know they were soulmates until only a few days earlier). The fact that he thinks Techno’s obsession with mythology is charming, finds himself watching the way the other man’s hands curl around his swords, or feels a stirring of something like molten liquid low in his belly when Techno’s deep voice compliments one of his pets, none of that had anything to do with being soulmates.

And the hurt he felt when he believed that he might not be Techno’s soulmate had been much deeper than he would have expected for a fledgling attraction born from the knowledge that they might be soulmates.

Dream runs across the frozen tundra, barely feeling the chill, and admits to himself that he might be just a little in love with Techno.

Now he just has to find him.

\---

“Carl,” Techno sighs when the horse stops again, intent on grazing upon the grass by the side of the path. “You are this close to becoming Steve’s dinner.”

He gives up when Carl pointedly does not listen to Techno’s knee squeezes or the rein tugs.

Honestly.

Techno grumbles and dismounts, deciding he’s far away from his own abode that he can spare a break. He’s not sure why he lied and said he wanted to go for a ride, but he blames it on the panic of seeing Dream’s lightly flushed face in George’s presence.

He’s a weak simp.

He admits it.

Techno groans, and tries not to think about his own admittedly childish actions or the knowing looks on Sapnap’s and George’s faces. He’s certain that, by the time he heads back, Dream will have been made aware of Techno’s ridiculously one-sided feelings and will be politely telling him that Dream will be leaving.

At this rate, Techno’s not sure he’s any better than Dream’s other fans.

Not with how he acted towards George.

Techno runs a hand over his hair, combing down the strands that have fallen out of the braid he customarily puts his hair in for riding purposes, and tethers Carl to a nearby tree. He’s careful to ensure that the grass that tempted Carl is easily accessible from the tree.

That done, he grabs the side sack from Carl’s back and resigns himself to do some herb gathering, if only to while away the hours and push back the inevitably awkward conversation he’ll be having with Dream once he returns.

He’s squatting in the middle of a red mushroom patch when he hears the sound of panicked running, seconds before Dream dashes into the clearing.

“Uh,” Techno says, taking in the sight of Dream’s hoodie and shorts, “bit lightly dressed for the weather don’t you think?”

Dream is visibly out of breath, a manic grin on his face. “You absolute asshole,” he rasps out, sounding surprisingly fond, “why don’t you offer your cloak if you’re worried?”

Techno’s eyes widen, except before he can respond, Dream is lifting up his hoodie.

“Heh?” Techno gets out, dropping the mushroom he’d been holding when a tanned chest is exposed. “What, what’s happening? Are-” He cuts himself off when Dream turns around and he catches sight of dark scribbles between the other man’s shoulder blades.

There is a beat of silence where Techno remains rooted to his spot, he’s too far away to make out the words but his blood is roaring in his ears and he’s too terrified to move.

“Any minute now would be great,” Dream gets out.

Techno moves cautiously when he notices the imperceptible shaking of Dream’s arms, giving away the fact that the chill is getting to Dream more than the other might be willing to admit. 

His feet crunch in the snow.

Every step taking him closer to that lovely, exposed back, all smooth tanned skin and Techno would marvel if his eyes weren’t already laser focussed on the words he’s starting to be able to make out.

Sooner than he thought, he’s standing right behind Dream and gaping at the man’s shoulder blades.

_You’re really going to insist on being a clown?_

His hand automatically goes up to his chest as realization strikes, and he stumbles back when Dream turns at the sound.

Dream is blindingly gorgeous in the bright sunlight, a striking spot of colour at such contrast to the patches of white snow surrounding them. His cheeks are flushed pink with exertion and his lips are red where the man’s been biting at them, and Techno is so gone for him.

Techno draws in a sharp breath when Dream raises a hand.

“Where?”

Techno swallows hard and silently starts to unbuttons his shirt. He doesn’t flinch when Dream bats away his hands to take over the task on his behalf, but his heart thud louder and louder in his chest as more of his skin is uncovered, until Dream’s hands are tugging his shirt open.

“You,” Dream says quietly, a hand reaching tentatively to trace the words over Techno’s heart, “why?”

Techno doesn’t know how to begin, it feels like his perception of the world is shifting, like he’s standing at the precipice of a cliff, gazing down at his intended freefall and wondering if he should take the plunge.

“Did you not want-” Dream starts softly, nervously, then stops abruptly and shifts, withdrawing his fingers from where they’d been leaving a trail of fire on Techno’s skin.

“No,” Techno gets out desperately, “no. I’m sorry, it’s not you, I, I should have said something.” 

Dream is peering up at him now, wide green eyes piercing through him and Techno could do nothing but babble under that gaze, feeling very much like a butterfly pinned to a board.

“I wanted to. I really did. I don’t know why I didn’t, I, I just, I was, I couldn’t bear the idea that maybe it didn’t go both ways. And after, you, you didn’t say anything. I thought I was right,” Techno blurts out messily, “and I didn’t want to lose you. Bruh, I’m, I’m a total simp for you. And I was willing to take what I could get.”

He looks away, stares down at the crushed snow beneath their feet, too scared to continue maintaining eye contact.

“You’re such an asshole.”

He hears Dream mutter, but then his face is being nudged up and he briefly catches sight of green eyes and tanned skin before he’s being kissed. The lovely red lips part to give access to a warm and wet mouth and Techno makes a needy noise and pushes closer to Dream. He’s thought about this ever since he first realized Dream is his soulmate, and now that it’s happening, he’s so dizzy he feels like he could faint.

Techno pushes away when he feels a shudder run through Dream’s body. He bites out a short curse before he’s taking off his red cloak and wrapping the other in it.

He means to look stern but then he catches sight of Dream’s half-lidded gaze and knows his face must be a dopey mess. Techno leans down and ducks his face into the crook of Dream’s neck, unable to resist pressing a quick kiss against it.

“We, ah, you might need to stop,” Dream admits thickly, “I mean, I’m all for it, don’t get me wrong, but ah, it’s um, pretty cold.”

Techno huffs a laugh against the speedrunner’s neck. “Who told you to run out into the cold in just a hoodie and shorts?”

“Shut up,” Dream grumbles back, arms reaching up to curl about Techno’s waist, “wouldn’t have had to do it if someone wasn’t too scared to confess.”

Which.

Techno bites back a hysterical snigger.

They’re both idiots, but just this once, he can be magnanimous and admit that he was the bigger dolt.

He draws back enough to be able to see Dream’s face, careful to keep the cloak still properly wrapped around the other’s shoulders.

“Helloo,” he says as he presses their foreheads together, “my name is Technoblade and I am an embarrassingly huge simp for you. And I might be your soulmate.” 

Dream is grinning at him, the beginnings of a wheezy laugh escaping despite his best efforts.

“And I think you might be mine,” Techno pushes on with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle, “how about I take you home and we make sure?”

“That was terrible, really, you have no game.”

But, to Techno’s never-ending glee, Dream still allows himself to be drawn into another hug.

Which is all very romantic.

Until Dream sneezes.

Techno tries not to laugh when he pulls back enough to see Dream’s pout, nose turning red and starting to leak unflatteringly. He decides they must be soulmates when Dream rubs his face against Techno’s chest, smearing the snot as he does so, and all Techno feels is an exasperated sense of fondness.

“Come here you clown.”

Dream’s reluctant snicker sets Techno’s heart pounding again.

He’s definitely a simp.

Oh well.


End file.
